


Jasmin de Caroline

by LEE_2148



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:55:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LEE_2148/pseuds/LEE_2148
Summary: "Long time no see.” When I opened the white painted wooden door, I saw his unfamiliar face."Louis Tomlinson." I said.The man outside the door had beautiful blue eyes, just as I remembered them. "I can't help it." He looked at me and smiled.How could I not recognize him.My old friend.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My native language is not English, if there is any mistake, please point it out, I am happy to know my mistakes.
> 
> Thank you for clicking into this article, wish you a happy reading ^_^💚💙

01.  
In the afternoon, I was sitting in a recliner by the window.  
The half-open window brought in the warm air and the scent of Carolina jasmine.  
The shadow of the edge fell on the title page of the book and I was about to fall asleep.

There was a distant knock at the door, two light, short knocks.

It seems that a small beast sleeping for many years was awakened, I squinted, reached out to retrieve the book that was about to slip upside down on the white tea table, pulled away from the sweet soft sunlight toward the door.

Unease, or....excitement.

"Long time no see.” When I opened the freshly painted wooden door, I saw a familiar, unfamiliar face.

"Louis Tomlinson."

I made a gesture of welcome. "How could I not recognize the blue-eyed boy who always wore a size one too big?

Louis laughed again. "I heard from an old comrade last year that you were settled in France, so this year I and..."

He looked up quietly, as if interested in the carving on my door. I knew what he said next might send me crashing through the ice.

"We're on holiday in France with my wife, Eleanor, and we're visiting old friends by the way."

I thought I would lose control for a while, but I didn't wait for my inner volcano to erupt.

Around the left corner came an active figure, galloping round the leftmost column, like a golden sunflower in a field, always toward the sun.

"Mr Styles," the Sunflower girl said to me, and it was hard not to notice that she had an American accent. I hated that.

"What a beautiful flower you have under your window! We hope our surprise visit will not disturb your plans." Two unrelated sentences were put together as awkwardly as if the two men had been put together.

"It seems that all the flowers under my window are welcoming Madame."If you like," I said, "I have seeds here. You can scatter them under your window as a gift for your first meeting." I made another please gesture and she took Louis' arm and crossed the threshold.

I watched Louis walk her. He was just like before.

02.  
The fighting. The fire. The flames of war never go out. Not far away, the heat wave of the explosion hit the face.

I don't know whether it was through the atmosphere or from where the light shone on everyone's face. I heard the groans of wounded soldiers at the rear, and in this situation no one wanted to risk sending a few men who were not likely to survive.

Like a cruel and premature verdict on their death.

The sound of gunfire are the words proclaiming death

But when I changed my ammo and set up my gun again, I saw a white light. Then he fell to the ground and heard the cries of the others. The dying soldier was silent for a moment.  
Oh, my God, I'm so screwed?

I don't know how long it took, but I woke up in the hospital. The legs were high up, the arms heavy -- oh, they were in a cast. Looks like I got my life back.

"Hey." said the man sitting by my bed. "You're awake."

I couldn't move my neck. I had to move my eyes. "No, you probably can't talk now." He covered for me. "I'm Louis. I saved your life."  
Haha, I've never heard that before. I saved your life. Strange and a little funny.

Unable to nod, I blinked.

"Have a good rest." He folded a corner of the book. "I'll see you later."

My God, how could he do that? I mean, how could he do that to his own book?

Without thinking too much, I fell asleep again.

Louis was with him for the rest of his days in the hospital. When I first stood up, I looked like a child of three. I only hoped he wouldn't laugh at me when I looked like that, but he tried to make fun of me.

“ Trying to walk huh? Harry? ”

Every time I would blush with anger, and Louis would come and rub my hair.

But it seemed so much easier to have him around.

I later learned that he was a newly graduated army doctor. He has a fiancee, and when he is at ease, he will write some articles for the newspaper, which is called encouraging people's hearts. All right, whatever he says.

03.  
It seemed that his fiancee loved my curtains.

She took off her bonnet and put it on the table and propped her chin to look out of the French window.

"Mr Styles," she said quietly, "I think you are a Catholic."

I was stunned, then realized she was referring to my baroque curtains.

"No, it isn't." I took a sip from the glass of lemonade I had left unfinished. "You observe very carefully. In the past, the owner of the house was a Catholic. My father bought it in about the thirties -- he lived there himself."

"Oh," she sighed, "I....er...I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to be rude."

I think she must have picked up the implied meaning of my words.

Louis didn't speak.  
As I pick up my last sip of cold lemonade, I see him over the top of the glass as he thoughtfully helps her take off her thin khaki knit jacket and drape it over his arm.

The room seems a little hot. I looked at the gorgeous jumble of patterns on the curtains.

"No, it isn't." I took a sip from the glass of lemonade I had left unfinished. "You observe very carefully. In the past, the owner of the house was a Catholic. My father bought it in about the thirties -- he lived there himself."

"Oh," she sighed, "I....er...I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to be rude."

I think she must have picked up the implied meaning of my words.

Louis didn't speak.  
As I pick up my last sip of cold lemonade, I see him over the top of the glass as he thoughtfully helps her take off her thin khaki knit jacket and drape it over his arm.

The room seems a little hot. I looked at the gorgeous jumble of patterns on the curtains.

Louis and I chatted on and off for several hours while Eleanor leaned back in an armchair in the sunshine to watch John Christopher.

The rose-colored planet sank slowly, leaving a grayish - purple mist over the trees. I got up to prepare dinner and poured a couple of glasses of wine. 

Louis gently woke up Irene, who had fallen asleep on a cushion.

Just bought caviar could enjoy alone, in order to make dinner table is not so shabby, three caviar is filled in the shell, the earlier this year is about to pick up from the sea shells, colored fish roe was glowing shell with pearly luster, the rack small spoon made of gold, printed on the white tablecloth. 

There was, of course, the only remaining bottle of champagne, served as an aperitif with baked Burgundy snails.

Because I'm a terrible cook, the white tablecloth French table consists of a plate of Provencal stew and six crepes ——three with ham and cheese and three with nut butter. There were, of course, twiggy candles and two bright roses in a vase.

For dessert, I would love to make a plate of gold cake, but the almonds on it have been blackened.

So，there was no dessert.

It was not much of a dinner, I admit it.  
Eleanor is not much of a guest, at least not in my eyes.

As I poured the wine, she said inopportune: "Mr. Styles, I hear you are quite advanced in literature," she said, filling her glass. "I wonder if you agree with me about Rimbaud." She then went on for more than 10 minutes, mostly with some elegant satire about Rimbaud's sexuality.

Her speech stopped when I had finished the last drop of wine.

"I'm flattered. I did read Rimbaud and see a bright world in it." I noticed that she started drinking -- after hearing my praise of Rimbaud. "He is beautiful, poem or soul." I didn't say what I really meant to say. I just said this.

Eleanor said nothing more.

04.  
After dinner, I asked them to stay,

Louis agreed. My house is not big, the guest room only has a narrow bed, I plan to go to the low roof of the guest room, can count the stars sleep all night.

"I love the low ceiling. It's the same as my room back home. The young men haven't seen each other for years and they must have a lot to talk about." 

So she went to sleep in the narrow little room.

The truth is, Louis and I are not really young men.

I sat at the head of the bed, the moonlight on the windowsill beat nocturne, the sky appeared ink-blue, like the classical porcelain of the distant east. 

The roof slopes down slightly and the floor-to-ceiling Windows create just the right trapezoidal view frame.

Louis walked out of the bathroom, wiping his hair with a towel. The dripping water ran down his abdomen and into his loose bathrobe, mixed with the fragrance of flowers and dense water vapor.

He looked at me, smiled, stepped on the soft blanket under the bed and sat down on the east side. 

The moon peeped out, plated him with silver, and his wet head fell limp over his shoulders. I framed him in the viewfinder with my hand. 

He looked like Artemis, soaked in honey in the moonlight.

I got up and went into the bathroom. When I came back, he was leaning over the bed, reading with his head down.

I put out the candle in the hallway and asked him, "Still up?"

He just lifted up the book in his hand, glanced at me, and put his attention back into it.

He turned over a few more pages and folded the top right corner of the page (he used to do this in the army, which I thought was disrespectful to the book, but let him).

"Good night,Mr. Styles."

I just fell asleep.

05.  
I was woken up by a loud cry, then I had to put on my coat as I heard Louis and the maid hurrying downstairs.

Eleanor sat sprawled on the stairs with her hands over her ankles. I pushed the maid away. She looked sorry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry Mr Styles, I didn't see the steps clearly, I, I..." She couldn't speak for the pain.

I regret having put out the candles.

"It's all right. It's not your fault. I put out the damn candles." I tried to comfort her.

"Oh... Don't blame yourself, Sir..." Eleanor lowered her head and moved her hands from their tight grip on her ankles. I have to say, her injuries look really bad and I've never seen a joint bend like that before. "Please don't worry, ma 'am. I'll send for the best doctor now."

I stood up and looked back at Louis. "Louis, she... I'll call the doctor now."

I just don't want to see Louis worried about her. I looked down.

I felt sorry for myself, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I can only quicken my pace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tasted the strong smell of wine on his lips. He took hold of my shoulders and began to press me into the mattress. I could hear the bedboard warping.
> 
> Are men's lips so soft? I thought as Louis' hand cupped my cheek.

01.  
The hall was quiet, and the cicadas chirping outside made me irritable.

Eleanor is surrounded by a room of people waiting for the doctor to arrive. Two maids, one holding her leg, the other wiping the sweat from the pain on her forehead with a cold towel.

Louis was half on his knees, asking her every now and then how she was.

Eleanor sustains herself, nodding from time to time,signaled to Louis that she was okay.

And I was like an outsider.

At last there was the kick of a carriage outside.

Thank God...

"Ah..." The doctor sighed, took off his glasses, and pondered his choice of words. "Errrr... Your ladyship is not badly hurt, but don't move about lately..."

"How long will it take?" Louis asked.

"I don't know, but I promise it will be all right within a month......?" The doctor looked apologetic.

Louis turned to look at me.  
"Harry, I'm really sorry, but.....it looks like we're going to have to stay a few more days..."

"It doesn't matter, Louis."   
I patted him on the shoulder, "rest assured here to recuperate well."   
I looked to Eleanor and said, "It's all right, lady. Stay here."   
She nodded, a smile on her pale face.

"It's all right. The servants will take care of her. Just leave it to Time." 

Louis sighed deeply.He opened his mouth and patted me on the shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I remember all the help you've given me in the past. I can't live without you."

I swear to God, I didn't mean to say that, and when I blurted out the words, Louis's face changed and he looked away.

Some things have quietly gone bad.

Even though no one else knows it's happening.

02.  
One night, Louis came to me. He seemed to be drunk.

When I knocked on the door, I knew it was Louis. Twice, then a pause, then one.

There was no one else in the ward, and the man with the broken bone was moved to another ward yesterday. Louis came into my room with half a bottle of wine, reeking pungent.

Outside the window the moon was hidden behind a cloud, the sky was ink-blue, the stars were shining, fireflies were dancing among the gooseberries, and the window was half open.

"Louis?" I struck a match and lit a candle. The room suddenly became much brighter. The wind blowing in from the window made the fire drift erratically. 

"What are you doing here?" I was both curious and excited about his sudden visit.

He ignored my question and shook the bottle in his hand, making a sound I had not heard for a long time. I haven't had a drink in ages.

He said, "Would you like some?"

"Louis... I haven't cured my illness yet . The doctor tells me I can't..."

The smell of alcohol grew stronger as he got closer to me. "Not a big deal! He patted himself on the chest, the drunkenness of his voice so lovely, "I promise you."

But out of politeness and safety, I shook my head. When he saw me like this, he said, "I'm a doctor. I said you'd be fine."

I swallowed as I looked at the beer in the bottle. I see his eyes, took over the bottle, hard hold, I have to so silent promise.

"Cough! Well... Ahem..." It seems to have been filled up. I choked. He laughed, put his beer down on the bedside table, and took out his handkerchief to wipe the corners of my mouth. "You're so cute."

That hit me. You are so cute. I said it in my mind, spelling out each word that made up the sentence and chewing it slowly in my mouth.

The flame of the candle beside the bed began to glare, and the wind outside the window suddenly stopped. 

I felt Louis' face coming closer and closer to me. When his breath hit my face, I gently called his name. And then he kisses it. It was just a gentle peck at first, but it was enough to make me blush. Would that make him think I was a virgin?

When he left my lips and looked into my eyes, I kissed him again. I can't help it.

I tasted the strong smell of wine on his lips. He took hold of my shoulders and began to press me into the mattress. I could hear the creaking of the bed boards.

Are men's lips so soft? I thought as Louis' hand cupped my cheek.

We didn't speak for the next few days.

Once he didn't come to see me all day. I think we need to talk. I need to ask.  
I went to the nurse on duty and asked her where Louis was, and she kindly took me to his office.

Louis was unshaven and his eyes were very red.

I was still taken aback by his appearance. I approached his desk. "Hey," I said in a deliberately breezy voice, "are you okay?"

He nodded silently.

"What's the matter..." I moved closer to him.

To be honest, I was really afraid that he would hide from me, from my eyes, from my body getting closer and closer to him.

Thankfully, he didn't.

"Harry, you know that. We......" He cleared his throat. "We can't do this." 

The way his eyebrows drooped made me want to lean in at once. It's something I've never felt before.

It made me want to flirt with him.

"Huh? Can't do what?" I moved closer. In fact, my heart was beating fast.

"Well... Is that so?" I took his chin between my thumb and forefinger and lifted his face slightly. 

His mouth was open as if he was going to say something, but I knew I wouldn't let him.

Like a continuation of that night, we started kissing again.

His stubble stung my face slightly. There was a vacuum between that night and now. It was as if we had never stopped kissing.

"Ah..." He began to whimper like a small animal, which made some part of my body jump with excitement. 

I moved away from his lips to look into his eyes, but instead he put his hand on the back of my neck and stroked the part of my shirt that covered it.

My back began to feel numb. Louis's arms began to move, and I opened my eyes to see that he was unbuttoning my shirt.

I haven't had a drink in a long time. I haven't had sex in a long time too.

He led me to the bed and I sat down. He sat straddling my lap with his legs spread wide, bent his head and kissed me. 

His naked upper body turned pink from rubbing my shirt, especially his nipples, which I sucked.

Louis kissed my hair and let out a satisfied whimper.

"I could..." Louis looked at my shirt button.

"I could... ?" I parted my reluctant lips and looked up at him. My hands moved uncontrollably from his waist to his hips. God knows how many times I've coveted this place.

His body straightened a little, and his ears turned a deeper red.

"Do what you want, Louis."

We both smiled, and he put his hand on my shirt collar.

Louis took off all his clothes, including mine.

Louis leaned against the head of the bed. He turned to me.He looked like he'd just been fucked. But he didn't even have sex with me.

"Fuck me, Harry." He said," Please..."

I kissed him behind his ears, then on his neck, then on his spine... And finally back to the lips. He turned to me and his voice shook. "Please."

When I stuck my finger in, he shouted louder than at any other time tonight, "... Fuck... Fuck, Harry... !" I hastily withdrew a little. "What's wrong? What's wrong with you? Are you ok?"

He shook his head and suddenly grasped my wrist, inch by inch, pushing it, pulling out a little more, inserting it again.

"Lou......" I took the opportunity to move forward and kiss his ass.

I hooked my finger, and Louis raised his butt higher in search of pleasure.

I had to add one more. Louis let go of my hand. His hands were leaning against the bedboard. I could even see the veins on his thin arms. "Is that all right, Sir?" I asked him

"Harry, you... Don't you call me that." He gasped back at me. 

"But..." I slowed my hand to his ear and said, "But you are older than me, aren't you?"

His face grew redder. "Harry," he said for a moment, "add another finger."

But it wasn't our first time. 

When he begged me to come in, I asked him," is this your first time,?" And he nodded shyly beneath me.

The look on his face made me want to fuck him even more. 

As I put his leg over my shoulder, I felt a stinging pain in my waist. The pain made me stop. I unwrapped the bandage and found blood oozing from the wound.

"Harry... You......" He sat up hurriedly and examined my wound. He took the medicine and gauze out of the drawer and dressed me up again. 

"Louis, I'm sorry." I kept my head down. This must have been a bummer. "Well, it's all because of the bloody wound."

"Hey..." Louis held my face. "Don't say that. We wouldn't have known each other if it hadn't been for your bloody wounds." He kissed the corners of my mouth.

"It won't be too late when you get better."

I nodded and said, "OK."


	3. Chapter 3

01.  
When I went to see Eleanor the next day, after I had made breakfast.  
She was a little better than she had been the night before——or so it just seemed to me.

"Good morning, Mr Styles."

She wore only a little makeup on her face. I have to admit. She is exquisite and beautiful even without makeup.

"Your cooking is so delicious, I would like to try your foie gras again if I can."She stroked her stomach as if she were still relishing the taste of breakfast.

"You flatter me." I pulled out the flowers I had picked this morning from behind my back.   
"Well, I think you like flowers, hope they'll make you feel better."

"Thank you so much. "The surprise on her face was lovely. "You're welcome." I kept smiling. "Feeling better?"

"Oh... Anna stayed with me all night." Eleanor looked at the maid beside her bed, who lowered her head and smiled, blushing, and shook her head. "Not all night..." "Darling, don't say that," Eleanor took her hand. "I couldn't feel as good as I do if you weren't here. Oh yeah, one more thing..." Eleanor looked up and said, "Mr. Styles, could you teach me how to make foie gras sometime?"

I nodded. "I can do it whenever you want."

After a few small talk, I left the room.

I saw Louis, who had washed and dressed. "Good morning." I said.

"Good morning, Harry."  
He buttoned up his shirt and patted out the creases. "I've been to see... Your wife.She's doing fine." When I say the word "wife," it looks like I swallowed a stone.

Louis nodded. He took a deep breath:" Anyway...Thank you, Harry."

"Go and have your breakfast please. I made foie gras myself." "I invited.

"All right." He said," I'll go."

02.  
Louis gulped down another iced drink, chewed the ice, and breathed contentedly, "Good summer day..." It sounds like an exclamation. 

I looked at him. The dark glasses made his cheeks look smaller. "How did you find this wonderful place? It's heaven,Harry."

"Oh, My mother is French, and I used to come here when I was a kid on vacation." I placed the half-drunk peach juice on the table next to the empty glass Louis had just drunk.

"Want to swim?"

"There's a pool? Here?" He was surprised. 

I jabbed my chin proudly. "I'll go get my trunks first."

"Whew --" Louis made a sound of satisfaction. The sun splits the water into lumps with shiny edges, and the sweet taste of a peach still lingers in my mouth.

Louis had taken off his sunglasses, and the light made his eyes as clear as water in a swimming pool.  
He has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.   
He flapped the water as if to the rhythm of a song.   
He turned his head and smiled at me. "If only this could last forever..."

"You can stay here as long as you want." I said.  
He just shrugged when I touched his hair on the sideburns.

The atmosphere began to subtler.

"So." He shook his legs with the slight movement of the water. "After that... Where have you been?" 

I couldn't escape his concerned eyes. 

"I mean, after the war, you came here?"

"Yeah." I squeeze out a syllable.

"Oh. So that's it." Louis said, "I thought you were having a pretty good time after the war. Ha ha. I mean, I thought you'd go somewhere more exciting, but it's so quiet here, you really surprise me."

I closed my eyes and put my hands behind my head. "Yeah... I've been bored since I left you."

03.  
It was a sultry afternoon. I took off my sweat-soaked vest and sat across from Louis. I told him I was leaving.

"Louis I'm going to... leave..."

"I'm sorry, what?... What did you just......" He was pinned to a chair and couldn't move. "What... What do you mean... ?"

"I'm leaving." I don't want to say that. None of us wanted to believe it. I wish today was April Fool's Day, but I can only tell him with a straight face that it is not a joke. 

"The arrangement of the superior, only one quota." I said, " I... I'm sorry."

He bit his nails nervously. "How much longer can you stay here?"

I know he doesn't want to know the answer.

The wound in my waist is about to open again.More pain.

"Three days." I looked down. I must have looked like a kid scolded by a teacher. "Three days at most, they say..." My voice trailed off until finally I couldn't hear what I was saying. He slowly wrapped me in his arms. I sobbed in his warm arms.

"Lou..." I didn't know what to comfort him, or myself. The language system collapsed silently at this moment, and I could only circle him a little tighter.

04.  
Later that evening I went for a walk in the garden, while Louis went upstairs to check on Eleanor.

I looked at the flowers that had been picked this morning, leaving only their stems and a few teetering leaves, and turned away.   
On the table next to the flower bed are still the burgundies we drank before dinner, and I've always loved the color.

I picked up the glass,and drained the remnants of Louis's glass.

As I lost myself in the soft female voice on the record, Louis came.

Knock, knock. It was his usual way of knocking.

"How is she?" I leaned over slightly.

"Not bad." He pulled off his coat and threw it over the back of his chair. "I know it's rude to say this, but... Thank you anyway."

I nodded. "I'll go to sleep after this song."

Louis listened for a long time, then looked around. "French?" he said.

I looked at his questioning expression and laughed.

"What are you laughing at? Louis was even more confused. "Isn't it? Am I wrong? But it sounds really French..."

"No... I mean......" I smiled clap thigh "you listen to so along a long time to arrive at this conclusion?"

Louis pouted. "Go to sleep. Your laughter just killed the best part of the song." Then he took off his waistcoat, exposed his smooth chest and back, and crept into bed.

♪  
C'est lui pour moi  
Moi pour lui dans la vie  
ll me l'a dit l'a jur épour la vie  
Et d ès que je l'apercois  
Alors je sens en moi  
Mon coeur qui bat  
♪

I lay in bed, remembering the passage covered by my laughter, and began to hum.

"You sang very well, Harry."

I rubbed the corners of my eyes. "Not as good as the original."

"You're still so modest." Louis sigh. "What's the name of the song? I think I've heard the song before, but I just can't remember the name."

"La Vie en Rose."   
Every time I say the name, I feel like I can smell a rose.

"So... Your French is not bad. Harry. "He joked.

"Not so bad." I stay humble. "Say, would you like to go shopping with me to town tomorrow? Let the servants attend to your wife."

"Yeah. I haven't seen a fair in France yet."

"Ah." I raised the corners of my mouth.

"Go to bed, Louis. We're up early tomorrow."

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night Louis."

I woke Louis up early in the morning, and I have to say he was so pissed off. Fortunately, I called him early, he reluctantly frowned and opened his eyes.

"Shit... Fuck you Harry......" He was grumbling and slowly putting on his socks.

Having got the carriage ready, we started on our way. Louis asked me on the way if there were any etiquette rules I should follow. I said no, it's no use learning, you're not going to live here long. We were silent for a while.  
He looked at his nails.  
I opened my mouth to say something and swallowed it back.

Every time the vendor handed us something, Louis would say, "Merci (Thanks)."  
"The only French I can speak is Bonjour( Good morning)and Merci," he explains, sticking out his tongue. "Why should I show off???"

"Yeah.... But to whom?" I asked him. He looked around at the French traders, at me, who had lived in France for ten years, at the driver of the horses (he was dumb, sorry). He stamped his foot angrily and got into the carriage.

I smiled.

In the end, we had five eggs (we had bought six, and Louis had broken one), some beef and lamb, a pint of milk, some tea, two tins of salt, three tins of sugar, a bag of coffee, and some funnysmelling spices, some fruit that Louis had chosen for himself... 

Oh, and a Sevres porcelain vase, elegant in design, with pale yellow perfumed flowers. 

Louis and I agreed that it would be the perfect gift for Eleanor. We must go back and have the servant wipe it off, and put it immediately by her bed.

"Thank you, Harry, for thinking of her." Louis pinched my forearm.

"Not at all. Just make her happy."  
I felt like my heart was dripping with hot lemon juice when I said that.

05.  
"Harry." I heard his voice, opened my eyes, and saw his face approaching again. "Oh..." My shoulders jerked and then slowly dropped. We exchanged saliva until one of us turned red -- usually Louis.

Sure enough, the same thing happened this time.

"Hey..." I stroked his cheek "your lung capacity is too small, later to do more exercise... "

I take a deep breath, the air is full of the smell of sex. Weekend mornings are always messy. Or should I say: weekend afternoons. We always get up very late.

We still didn't have real sex. No one spoke of it again.

"Gosh, I never thought war would be like this when I joined the army." I snuggled in Louis's warm chest, burying myself between the covers and his scalding body.

"Well, when I chose to become a doctor, I never imagined that I would be caring for my patients like this." He smiled indulgently and burned another kiss onto my forehead.

One more day, the last day, I'm leaving.

When I think of it, I fall from the peak of the rainbow to the bottom of the abyss in an instant. Worse still, I was at my wit's end. I can't change anything. Like a boat in a deep sea storm.

06.  
Eleanor really liked that vase. When we got home, Louis and I cleaned it up and gave it to Eleanor. Now it was beside her bed, with perfume flowers in it.

"Harry, Louis has told me a lot about the two of you in the army. He's talked a lot about you." "She told me, touching the petals with one hand and her belly with the other.

"Is it?" I looked aside at Louis, who was silent. "Louis has been a lifesaver and I am grateful to him."

"...... It's late. Go to bed, Eleanor."   
Louis kissed her forehead and I saw his hurried look.

"What's the matter? Louis?" "I asked him, leaning my head against the wall. He looked down at the tips of his shoes." Nothing."

"What's the matter? What's wrong? I've got some medicine here. You..." I leaned close to his face. I wanted to kiss him.

He dodged.

My anger exploded, but I knew I couldn't scream. I lowered my voice and said, "Are you so reluctant to mention me in front of people? You don't like to mention the old days to her, do you? "

He said nothing.

"Then why did you come to me on purpose? Why did you come to see me? From the hustle and bustle of London to the French countryside? We're supposed to stay out of it? You know, don't you?"

"Because you didn't fucking come to me!!" He shouted, and emotion burst at that moment.

"I looked for you." My eyes began to ache and barbed wire wound around my throat. "I went to fuckin 'find you Louis, I went to London to find you. I didn't even go home. I... I was still in my uniform that day, and I came to London to find you. I... They said the other day you... You..."

"What?"

"You got married that day."

07.  
London. Even though I had been here before, the strangeness excited me.  
I tucked my train ticket into my trouser pocket and patted my healed waist.

I open my notebook and turn to the page where Louis lives. I can recite with my eyes closed which street, which building, which floor.

I rang the bell at 208.

I stepped back and looked at the next street sign.

I press again.

"Are you... A friend of Louis?" I looked to my right. It was an old woman half a head shorter than I was, her voice like fingernails on rough glass.

I said, "Yes, I'm here to see Louis.LouisTomlinson."

"I'm his neighbor. Don't you know he's getting married today? With Eleanor, the girl from America. I...err... Honestly I don't like her very much, but you can't change Louis's choices. He's got a temper like that..." She went on talking and I couldn't hear what she said.

Married.

The word burned in my heart and consumed me. I took a deep breath, my throat full of fire.

I couldn't speak. 

Huge roar accompanied by the flame, my reason in an instant burned out.

Finally, I thanked the woman, and the bum got on the train back to France.

08.  
"Your neighbour says you're married..." I repeat the sentence again. I'm torturing myself like a masochist right now.

"Harry..." I heard Louis's tired, guilty voice.

"I'm sorry."

He said he was sorry.

"Sorry? What are you sorry for? Me?" I sneaked out a tear with a dry laugh. "No, I don't deserve it."

Just make yourself happy, Louis. Please.

I slammed the door and left.

The sound of Louis Shouting to keep me away.


End file.
